Yearning for What's Lost
by Sunburned-Stickperson
Summary: When all else fails to curb the Bleeding Effect, Desmond falls asleep with Shaun, and the historian realizes that when Desmond has a story read to him, he sleeps soundly.


**Yay vampire literature! XD**

**My heart goes out to the parents I wrote this for. Having been the topic of court rulings, I pray for their child and them. D:**

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><p>It started out simple enough: Desmond slept with Lucy to keep the bleeding effect away. When he woke up thinking she was Maria, he called it quits and didn't touch her again. So, he moved onto Rebecca, and as loudly as Shaun protested him sleeping with her, she laughed and hoped it helped the bleeding effect. However, when he woke up thinking she was Rosa, he beat his head against the brick wall until he had such a bad concussion that h kept from the Animus for a month.<p>

So that left Shaun—and Shaun refused to entertain the idea until he started dreaming of a warm body against his at night and waking up confused when his warm bed felt so empty. Shaun confronted Desmond, and the newer assassin shamefully admitted to crawling in with him at night. That had been two months ago.

Now, the bleeding effect was getting worse, and Shaun would wake up with Desmond clinging desperately to him, trembling and shaking, and all he could do was tell him a story and hope he calmed down. When his repertoire of fairy tales ran out, he told him stories from religious text and classic literature, and when those were depleted, his own past.

Desmond always slept soundly after a story, and Shaun would lie there and watch the young man sleep, his head on his chest and one arm around him as if the historian could protect him from everything. Although Shaun would never admit to it, when Desmond would fall asleep, his mind would wander back to his girlfriend, Kate, and how he had always hoped to have kids. She loved the idea, too, and he wanted to punch Rebecca for making fun of him. But, with Desmond curled against him like that, he thought, maybe, it wasn't so bad after all. Desmond was nothing more than a big, fat, baby.

And, he looked cute. Shaun found himself stroking his head or rubbing his back when the new recruit would twitch, and he wondered if this was what having a child was like. He enjoyed it—even though he would never admit it aloud, especially to Desmond. Things gradually got better from there, and when progress made a standstill, Shaun thought it was time for a change.

He was all ready in bed when Desmond came walking in, dressed in his boxers. His eyes were unfocused and becoming cloudy. Shaun sat his book down, picking the one at the side of his bed.

"All right, Desmond, we're going to switch things up."

There—those words had the cloudiness vanish. "What do you mean?"

He smiled and patted the bed. Desmond smiled back and climbed in. The smiles were their secret, just like these stories. These couple of hours were theirs and theirs alone. Desmond settled beside him, twining their legs together. His hand lightly fisted Shaun's shirt as he adjust against the pillow and opened the book. He held it open with one hand and let his other arm rest over Desmond's side as his boy rested his head on his chest. Yes, Shaun wanted kids badly.

"I'm going to read to you first tonight, instead of waiting for you to wake up from a nightmare."

Desmond clutched his shirt tighter, and Shaun could feel the heat the man gave off through his sweatpants and long sleeve, white shirt. "Okay."

Shaun rubbed his side gently. "Chapter one, 'Who I am, why I write, what is to come.'"

"What is this?"

"_Vittorio the Vampire_ by Anne Rice. I was appalled by that crap Rebecca gave you to read, so I have decided I will introduce you to decent vampire lore, not that _Sunset_ bollocks."

Desmond laughed, and Shaun felt his heart flip-flop at the sound. "It's called _Twilight_!"

"Whatever it is, it's ludicrous. Next, I'll read you _Dracula_ and _The Strain_."

Desmond looked at him and leaned up, kissing him briefly on the lips, much like a kiss from child to father. He settled back down. "Okay, okay, don't get your undies in a knot."

Shaun shook his head, rolling his eyes. "'When I was a small boy I had a terrible dream. I dreamt I held in my arms the severed heads of my younger brother and sister—'"

"I thought my dreams were bad…"

"'They were quick still, and mute, with big fluttering eyes, and reddened cheeks, and so horrified was I that I could make no more of a sound than they could.'"

He felt Desmond shift against him to see the print on the book, and he let a small smile slip: he knew that his boy would enjoy it.

"'The dream came true.

But no one will weep for me or for them. They have been buried, nameless, beneath five centuries of time.

I am a vampire.

My name is Vittorio, and I write this now in the tallest tower of the ruined mountaintop castle in which I was born, in the northernmost part of Tuscany—'"

"Italy!"

"Yes, Italy. '…That most beautiful of lands in the very center of Italy.

By anyone's standards, I am a remarkable vampire, most powerful, having lived five hundred years from the great days of Cosimo de' Medici, and even the angels will attest to my powers, if you can get them to speak to you. Be cautious on that point.'"

"Who was Cosimo?"

"He was the first of the great Medici dynasty. After him, of worth to note, came Piero, then Lorenzo."

"So, I could, potentially, go into the Animus and try to find Vittorio?"

"Um… Yes, but—"

"Can we do that when Lucy goes shopping tomorrow?"

Shaun blinked and looked down to see Desmond looking at him with hope. He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped and sighed, pushing his glasses up. "Fine."

Desmond smiled warmly, and Shaun found himself with a soft smile as his boy turned back to the book. He continued reading until he felt Desmond's breathe even out on his chest, and he put the book down beside him, watching his boy. His chest was moving up and down softly, and Shaun felt a pang in his heart.

Desmond looked so peaceful and innocent lying there, dreaming of things the historian could only hope weren't nightmares. Shaun hated how he had to go through all of this, losing his sanity for entirely selfish gains of others. He hoped his boy would make it out okay, and how, he wished, that Desmond wouldn't just up and leave him when all of this nonsense was done. His heart was ripping in two as he watched Desmond suffer the Bleeding Effect, and he prayed it wouldn't get worse.

He put the bookmark in and closed the book, setting it on top of the book about the Medici family. Desmond shifted when he settled into the blankets in the drafty room, and Shaun flicked out the light, turning on his side to pull his boy close.

The stars above watched over them as they slept, twinkling gaily from far away. They danced and played in the sky above with promises of sweet dreams and better sleep. The dark of the deep blue sky wrapped around them, and Shaun slept wonderfully that night. Desmond didn't stir.

And sure enough, when they plugged him into the Animus the next morning, both he and his boy were floored to find Vittorio, asleep in a darkened room during the day in the castle in Tuscany. When Desmond got out, he had the biggest, shit-eating grin on his lips, and neither could wait for that night to read more.


End file.
